The Brides of the Sheikh
by Ceefax
Summary: AU. Jack's the ruler of a little desert penisula known as Bho-Shiyn, where Ianto arrives looking for a clue to his past...
1. Chapter 1

* * *

The Brides of the Sheikh  
By Ceefax

* * *

Ianto got something of a shock as he and the driver finally retreated from the fierce Bho-Shiyn sun into the sand-coloured palace and he set eyes on the man who came forward to meet them.

_*But that's completely impossible,*_ he thought, slipping his fingers into his pocket and touching the photograph.

"Mr Jones, highness," the driver said, bowing.

He got another shock when the sheikh courteously dismissed the driver.

"You're... You're American? I mean, you sound American..."

A set of perfect white teeth flashed in his direction. "Not really. But I've travelled a lot." He offered a hand and Ianto shook it. "Welcome to our little peninsula."

"Thanks." He fished the photo out of his pocket. He had to ask. "Is this you? Er, your highness."

"Call me Jack." Another movie-star smile and Ianto, much to his annoyance, felt himself blush. The sheikh took the picture from Ianto's outstretched hand. "Sorry, no. That's my dad."

"You look exactly like him..."

Jack gave him back the photograph and took his arm. "Come on, let's get you a drink and somewhere to sit. The heat can be a bit much if you're not used to it."

Ianto blushed even harder at that, and allowed himself to be led into a maze of corridors.

They passed through many rooms, arranged with fixtures and fittings as though several sizable dinner parties were imminent, but there was an abandoned feel to them. He was sure they were just for show, like the displays in British stately homes. Estelle had liked stately homes. Kathy wouldn't go because that would be supporting the aristocracy and Owen dismissed them as 'boring', so he had ended up accompanying Estelle quite often.

The walls, like that of the lavish entrance hall, were yellow stone, and the doorways were arch-shaped with pointed tips. Red curtains with elaborate patterns embroidered in gold served as doors. "These are beautiful," Ianto commented as Jack held one aside for him to pass. "Are they very old?"

Jack laughed. "You got me. Tell you the truth, I hardly even see them any more. Billis'll know."

"Billis? The driver?"

"Driver, estate manager, butler, gardener... Basically, he does all the work, I just sit around and look pretty."

Ianto, with a certain sense of resignation, felt himself blush again. Hopefully Jack would assume it was sunburn.

They emerged into a large bright room. Flowering plants overflowed from pots in all four corners, the bright colours wonderfully refreshing on the eyes after all the drab, desert shades. The floor was covered from wall to wall with a thick, intricately patterned carpet. _*This must be one of those Turkish carpets I've heard so much about,*_ Ianto thought. _*It probably doesn't fly, though.*_ He stopped at the edge of the carpet, unwilling to step on it in the boots he'd worn outside, but Jack tugged him forward.

They sat on a long, low sofa at the back of the room, covered in more cushions than Ianto had ever seen in one place before. There was a table in front of them laid with fruit, fruit juices and water. A large fan in the ceiling produced a slight breeze, and the overall effect was deliciously comfortable. Jack pulled a functional-looking knife from his belt and began eviscerating a mango, offering Ianto every alternate slice.

"So, how'd you end up in our little corner of the world?"

"Well..."

* * *

Estelle, his foster mother, had been an inveterate hoarder, as Ianto was only too aware, having shared a house with her from the ages of fourteen to eighteen. Two weeks after her funeral, his foster sister, Kathy, effortlessly overruled his feeble protests and roped him into the clean-up operation.

Which explained why he was carting twenty years worth of old newspapers out of a pretty little cottage in Buckinghamshire on a perfectly nice Saturday morning. He dumped his current armload into the back of Kathy's car and winced at the protesting creak from the suspension.

Back in the kitchen, Kathy had spread a mound of documents all over the table.

"Look at this," she greeted him, "I found the original deed to the house from 1922. It used to be called Meadow View." He peered over her shoulder at the elaborate hand written document. "Pretty, isn't it? Catch anybody making attractive official documentation these days. These days it's a miracle if it's even spelt right."

"'Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.' You'd better get that lot down to the tip," he jerked a thumb at the back door, indicating her Vauxhall Omega parked in the driveway. "There's no way we're getting anything else in there."

She yawned and stretched. "Yeah, okay. Go and give Owen a hand with the box room, and _don't either you dare touch these papers."_

"No, sir."

She whacked him lightly round the head and departed. He watched out the window until she was out of sight, just in case an axle snapped, then made his way up the stairs to find his foster brother.

The box room lived up to the name. Cardboard boxes and old furniture filled the tiny room from wall to wall. In the middle of the junk, Owen had constructed a rudimentary armchair, mostly from an ancient saggy beanbag, and was sitting with his feet up reading a book. A few bits and pieces dragged out onto the landing stood testament to his initial efforts.

Ianto leaned against the doorway and waited for Owen to acknowledge his presence. After about ten seconds and one page turn he gave up. "Kathy's gone to the tip."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Which would seem to imply that I've shifted a whole car-load of crap while you've been up here sitting on your arse."

"Well, aren't _we_ a good little boy."

They had history, those two. Owen had a rather impressive scar on his shoulder where Ianto, age fifteen, had snapped and gone for him with a skewer. There had been mitigating circumstances, but it had earned him several months hard labour with the school counsellor.

"What are you reading, anyway?" Ianto asked, having noticed the blank cover.

"Diary."

Ianto grabbed the nearest box and began rifling. It was filled with old clothes, too far gone even for a charity shop. On some of them, there were signs of mould. "I didn't know she kept a diary."

"Nah, s'not Estelle's. Not unless she got married and didn't tell anyone."

He sealed the box of clothes and pushed it down the stairs. It got stuck halfway. "Whose is it, then?"

"Think it might be your mum's."

Confusingly enough, it wasn't the tone he usually used for taking the piss, but to be on the safe side Ianto fixed him with a look of superior disdain to indicate just how little effect his underhanded tactics had. Family was something of a sore point between them. Owen had a mother and a swarm of sisters, with whom he had regular contact, and had even lived with once or twice. Ianto had been abandoned when he was a few days old, and had no known roots, save a series of foster homes.

The next box he snagged contained a vast mound of silverware, and the aged cardboard gave way as he pulled, scattering spoons over the carpet. He frowned. This was the fourth cutlery set they'd found, not including the two that were in everyday circulation. He knelt down and began gathering them up.

"What d'yer reckon?" Owen asked.

There were candlesticks in the box as well. "What do I reckon what?"

"Well look, then."

He looked up. Owen was holding up the diary, showing the photograph stuck to the inside cover. "So, what d'yer reckon? Any resemblance?" The photograph was a close-up of a man and a woman, cheek to cheek and smiling. "I suppose he might look a bit like you," Owen mused, turning the photo back towards him, "in a generic 'we're both white blokes' sort of a way. There's some other photos in the box."

Unsure what track this conversation was taking, Ianto paused, fish fork in hand. It occurred to him for the first time that Owen might actually be serious.

Owen calmly flipped back to his place, which he'd marked with a finger, and carried on reading. "Well, don't you wanna see? It's this one here with your name on." He aimed a kick at an open cardboard box which had once, apparently, contained multipacks of monster munch.

Retaining the fish fork, in case sudden deadly revenge was needed, Ianto picked his way across the room. On the side of the box in question was indeed 'Ianto', written in what was undoubtedly Estelle's handwriting and covered, as was the rest of the box, with a thin layer of dust. It was beginning to look like this really wasn't one of Owen's jokes.

There were a number of loose photographs at the top. He picked them up one by one, examined them, then stacked them on the floor. They mostly featured one or both of the couple from the diary photo, and they all seemed to have been taken somewhere vaguely middle-eastern, although he hadn't spotted any recognisable landmarks. In one of them, the woman might have been pregnant, but she was wearing heavy robes and he couldn't be sure.

There was one clue - a date, 22nd July 1979, written on the back of one of the photographs. It showed the couple and one other man standing in a line and smiling at the camera. The two men were shaking hands. He put it on top of the pile.

"I'm really beginning to think she _was_ your mum, you know. She's so incredibly boring."

"Can I see?"

Owen dropped the book into his outstretched hand. "I'm gonna make some tea. Want some?"

"Yeah, thanks."

He dropped into Owen's makeshift chair. He felt oddly calm about all this, given that that it was a potentially life-altering discovery. He flipped through the pages. The diary was three-quarters full, with a few sketches upside-down in the back pages. He turned the book over and was examining them, when he noticed an address in faded ink on the inside back cover...

It looked as if he'd have to take some time off work.

* * *

"...So you still don't know what happened to your parents?" Jack was sitting sideways with his legs curled beneath him, one arm extended over the back of the sofa to lie just a few inches from Ianto's shoulders.

"No. The diary ends in 1979, three years before I was born."

"Hmmm. That's a few years before they left here..."

"Were you living here, then? Did you meet them?"

"Not as such, no. We'll ask Billis later, I'm sure he'll be able to help. Tell me more about your foster family."

Ianto suddenly felt horribly embarrassed about mentioning the mundane happenings of his life in this gorgeous palace. "They're not all that interesting, really."

"They seem pretty interesting so far. Tell me." He said it in a tone of easy command - simply as though he expected to be obeyed. Ianto was irrationally reminded of Ms Hartman.

"Well, Kathy's a detective inspector. In the police. And Owen's a doctor."

"Yeah? What about you?"

"Oh, I'm just a PA. Well, Owen seems to think it's pronounced 'tea boy'..."

Jack laughed and shifted slightly, bringing his hand down to rest lightly against Ianto's shoulder. Ianto was suddenly very much aware of the single layer of cotton separating them, where at home he would have had several comfortingly thick layers. "Sounds like you think they've done better than you."

"Well... they save people's lives and bring criminals to justice. I pick up Ms Hartman's dry cleaning."

"Don't sell yourself short. I know how lost I'd be without Billis. But that's not actually telling me about them, that's just telling me what they do."

"Well... I... Kathy's the eldest. Estelle adopted her when she was four, so she's had quite a stable upbringing, considering."

Jack smiled encouragingly and leaned forward to snag a banana, bracing himself on Ianto's shoulder. It was really very disconcerting - Ianto couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him.

"She always used to boss us around. Still does, actually. Owen and me bounced around the place - I went from foster home to foster home, he went from foster homes to his mother and back again."

"You didn't find anywhere to settle down?"

He didn't feel very comfortable discussing his really quite horrible childhood with this all-too-handsome man who he darkly suspected was eating that banana in a deliberately provocative way. "We did eventually. So, what about you?"

"Not much to tell. Took over all this..." With a sweep of his hand he indicated his kingdom, "from my dad. It really runs itself, I just spend the money. Well, me and the ladies."

Ianto gave him a questioning look, and he picked up a folding picture frame from behind a high pile of pineapples and handed it over. It contained studio portraits of three women.

"My wives," Jack explained. Ianto was entirely unable to keep the surprise from his face. Jack laughed. "Well, I've got to keep busy somehow."

"They... er... They're very pretty."

"You'll meet Toshiko at dinner tonight." He tapped the picture in the left-hand frame. "The others are out of the country at the moment. Gwen's somewhere in Switzerland, and Rose's in Paris."

"Do you have any children?"

"No, no. I don't think any of us are that responsible, yet." He laughed, and Ianto smiled politely. "You don't have anyone waiting for you back home?"

"No. There's no-one."

"Ah. Best way to be." He gave Ianto a friendly pat on the shoulder. "How's the jet lag? I'd recommend a rest before dinner, and around here it's best to sleep through the hottest part of the day, anyway. Good habit to get into." He got up, opened a small side door and exchanged a few words with someone on the other side. "Oh, and make sure you've got something to snack on," he added, folding himself back onto the sofa. "Keep your blood sugar up, trust me, it helps."

Billis appeared at the door. He inclined his head towards Jack. "Highness?"

"Would you show Mr Jones to his room, please? We'll eat at five," he added, addressing Ianto, "then I'll give you the grand tour. Tomorrow we'll see what we can dig up about your folks."

Ianto followed Billis into another maze of corridors. The tall, thin man said nothing but simply strode ahead. Ianto liked to think he had a good sense of direction, but the high enclosed walls soon had him disoriented. When, less than five minutes later, Billis stopped outside a dark, highly-polished wooden door, Ianto had no idea in which direction the opulent sitting room had been. This was a little worrying, but he supposed, in a pinch, he could always use the Theseus-in-the-labyrinth approach to find his way around.

Billis opened the door and stepped back to allow him to go first. His luggage had apparently made it before either of them. The room was very pleasant - light and airy with a balcony looking out over the front courtyard. There was a small living-room area with large, soft armchairs, separated from the bedroom by a mesh screen, which had a rather impressive vine-like plant growing across it. The bedroom led on to the bathroom, which was all in white and gold.

Billis showed him the bell pull which would summon a servant, bowed to him (not as low as he'd bowed to Jack) and left.

Ianto sat down on the (huge soft) bed and levered his boots off with a sigh of relief. Investigation revealed that although the sand had infiltrated his socks, there was none in his boots. This didn't seem possible, but there it was. He pulled off his socks, tucked them into a side pocket of his rucksack because they looked so untidy lying on the floor, and wriggled his toes with abandon. He considered unpacking, but was feeling a little too lazy at that particular moment. He unbuttoned his shirt, but didn't remove it, and flopped backwards onto the bed.

The ceiling was painted with similar geometric patterns to the curtains in the corridors, but here they were executed in pale green and blue. He smiled up at it. Everything was so pretty here - it made a wonderful change from the stark modernity he was usually surrounded with.

The next thing to worry about was what on earth to wear for dinner. He had tried to pack for all eventualities (while still having luggage that he could carry without injuring himself), but he had no idea what would be expected of him. He would be dining with the country's ruler, after all, so a certain degree of formality would be appropriate; however Jack hadn't really struck him as an appropriate degree of formality kind of guy... He should have asked Billis, but it hadn't occurred to him at the time.

He yawned, rather hugely (the bed really was very comfortable), and glanced at his watch. He had a few hours before he needed to start getting ready. He ran a hand thoughtfully over his chin. He should have a shave before dinner. And a bath. He rolled off the bed and went to investigate the bathroom.

The bath was a design he hadn't seen before - sunken into the floor, with one side a very shallow slope - more like a miniature swimming pool than a bath. He set the water running and wandered back into the living room. There was a bookcase against the wall containing books in a surprising range of languages, most of which he didn't know. However, there were five or six in English, as well as a tiny leather-bound edition of _L'Esprit contre la raison_ in French. He smiled at the selection - very pretentious, perfect for a palace guest room - picked out L'Esprit and an amalgamated edition of _Paradise Lost_ and _Paradise Regained_ and took them back into the bathroom.

He had a sudden crisis of conscience concerning the availability of water in the desert, and left the bath water quite shallow. He piled his clothes on a chair in the bedroom, dug his washing kit out of his rucksack and threw a towel over the books sitting by the taps in case of splashing.

He winced at his reflection - in spite of his repeated applications of sunscreen, the areas of exposed skin were noticeably pink, clashing with his normal white-shading-to-pale-blue colouring. He sighed ruefully and stepped into the bath.

The cool water felt wonderful. He washed himself from head to toe, resolved to ask Jack about the water recycling systems to determine how guilty he should feel, dried his hands carefully on the booktowel, and settled down to read.

He lay on his stomach on the sloping edge using the towel as a cushion for his elbows. There he stayed in a contented state of relaxation, occasionally swirling his feet so the cool water lapped at his sides, until he was brought out of his daze by the sound of somebody moving around in his room.

* * *

He didn't drop the book. Instead he gripped it convulsively, staring wide-eyed at the flimsy sliding partition. Soft unmistakable footsteps sounded again. And then came a zip opening...

Trying to make as little noise as possible, he climbed out of the bath, feeling cold for the first time since he'd got off the plane. He wrapped himself in the thick white robe hanging by the towel rack - while attacking naked might possibly grant you the element of surprise (and maybe intimidation, depending on the opponent), attacking naked and wet and shivering was almost as pitiful as attacking naked and wet and shivering with a towel precariously balanced around one's hips.

The closest to a weapon the bathroom could offer was a heavy glass bottle filled with what he was almost sure was bubble bath, but as he couldn't read the label he'd decided not to risk it. He hefted it, holding it in a thumping-on-the-head position, took a deep breath, slid the partition back an inch, and peered through the gap.

It was Billis. He was engaged in the furtive, underhanded pursuit of unpacking Ianto's suitcase. Heart pounding, and feeling like a bit of an idiot, Ianto watched as he shook out a shirt, slipped it onto a hanger and hung it in the wardrobe, then (leaving the probably-bubble bath behind) pushed back the partition and stepped into the bedroom.

Billis gave him one of his little semi-bows. "I hope you are quite refreshed, sir. I have taken the liberty of laying out some clothes for this evening."

If only all problems were so easily solved. "Thank you..." Billis refastened the empty suitcase and put it on top of the wardrobe. Ianto did a double take at his watch, sitting innocently on the dressing table. It was nearly half past four. He'd never been in the bath that long... Granted, he'd put his head down on the towel-pillow and closed his eyes a few times, but he didn't think he'd been tired enough to sleep... He darted back into the bathroom and began to fill the basin, letting the water out of the bath as an afterthought.

Billis snuck in behind him and started folding towels. "This wing has an interesting architectural history. I distinctly remember your father commenting very favourably on the structural features."

Ianto paused in his application of shaving foam. "Did you know my father well?"

"Not well, no. Your parents' stay with us was all too brief, much to the sheikh's disappointment."

"Why did they come here?"

Billis gave him a thin-lipped smile and peered quickly at his pocket watch. "If I may, sir, we are due at dinner very shortly, and there will be other times in which to reminisce." With a brief incline of his head he swept up the used towels and departed. Ianto gave his departing back a quizzical look and turned back to the mirror.

* * *

Jack was late to dinner. Thankfully, in the meantime, Ianto and Toshiko had discovered they had similar tastes in television and computers, and had moved past _Monty Python_ and _Yes, Minister_ and were enthusiastically discussing programming languages when he finally arrived.

He kissed Toshiko on the cheek, gave Ianto's shoulder a squeeze, and sat down at the head of the table. "Sorry, had to take care of some things. You should've started without me."

Toshiko gave him a warm smile. "Oh, we were going to, don't worry."

Ianto was staring down at his empty place setting, waiting for the blush that Jack's touch had engendered to fade. This was really getting ridiculous - his life up to this point hadn't exactly overflowed with passion, but a simple touch on the shoulder shouldn't affect him so badly. Especially the touch of a (very) married man.

"You two seem to be getting on. Has she told you how we met?"

Toshiko went a rather pretty shade of pink. "Oh, don't."

"It's a very romantic story - she saved me from desert bandits."

"It wasn't really like that..."

"Yes it was, don't ruin it." She smiled and rolled her eyes. He leaned eagerly forward towards Ianto. "It was a dark and stormy night..."

Toshiko laughed and hit him lightly with the back of a spoon. "It was a slightly overcast afternoon, actually."

"All right, but there had been a bit of a sandstorm earlier."

Ianto almost jumped out of his skin as a servant appeared silently behind him and placed a plate of meat and rice in front of him. He twisted around automatically, but he'd already disappeared. When he turned back, Jack and Toshiko had also been served, and a curtain covering a doorway was just swinging back into place. Toshiko gave him a look of sympathy. "They're good, aren't they? You get used to them eventually."

"So, anyway," Jack said, around a mouthful of food, "there I was, minding my own business, driving along... To be fair, I was singing along with Abba quite loudly at the time, so somebody may've been offended by that..."

"Not camp at all," Toshiko interjected.

"Absolutely not. So, I'm driving along, when this guy with a submachine gun steps out into the road. I try turning the music down, but he still looks pissed. I'm in an open jeep, so I don't have any cover, or a lot of options. So then I'm watching them divide up my possessions - and there was some talk of them taking my jeans... that's the trouble with designer labels - when over the hill comes a squad of cavalry in khaki to my rescue."

"You're in the army?" Ianto asked, addressing Toshiko. She hadn't struck him as the type.

She shook her head. "I'm a doctor. But I did some work for the UN for a while."

"Really? My brother's a surgeon, what field are you in?"

She gave a small apologetic smile. "Pathology, actually."

"Ah. Not quite so glamorous."

"Not really, no."

"And then two months later we were married. Sweet story, isn't it?" He beamed at Toshiko, who smiled back.

"Bit of a whirlwind romance," Ianto couldn't help remarking.

"Yes, Jack's good at those."

"When you know it's right, why wait?" Jack said, emphasising the point with a piece of bread. "By the way, Ianto, I'm loving that shirt on you. Dark colours really bring out your eyes."

Taken aback, Ianto hastily swallowed his mouthful of food. "Er... Thank you."

"Of course," Toshiko added, "it's not really a classic love story, as he already had one wife at this point."

"You can't say I didn't warn you."

"If you don't mind my asking..."

"Why did I marry him if he was married already?"

"Oh, it's purely sexual," Jack said with a sideways grin.

Toshiko hit him with the spoon again. "Actually, it's a very convenient arrangement."

_*Do you all sleep together?*_ "How do you get on with the others?"

"We don't see all that much of each other, to be honest. We get on fine, whenever we manage to be in the same country at the same time."

"But don't you... I've never actually come across this, er... Don't you _mind?"_

"Mind what?" Toshiko asked.

Jack was sitting back, smiling, eyes flicking between the two of them, with the air of someone enjoying a particularly good tennis match. Ianto shot him a nervous glance. "That he gets three wives and you only get one husband. It's just... It seems a little one-sided."

Jack's smile widened until he seemed positively predatory. "You disapprove?"

"No! No, not at all, I just wondered..."

"Well, um..." Toshiko went slightly pink and looked down at her plate.

"No need to worry about that," Jack said, "we're very modern here - we practise open relationships. Gwen's got two other guys on the go - and that's just the ones we know about - and I've lost track of Rose's... Tosh, still just the one bit on the side, yes?"

She nodded, going pinker still, smiling in a proud-but-embarrassed way.

Ianto felt very much as though he'd opened a can of worms.

Jack leaned in, resting his chin on his hands. "So, all three of us are free and available." He grinned at Ianto, who felt a little like bashing him with a spoon himself.

"Don't pay any attention to him," Toshiko said. "He _will_ flirt with anything, I've seen him."

"It's true," Jack said, "I'm a slut," and he laughed happily.

All this was somewhat outside Ianto's usual experiences. Where he came from, dinner conversation didn't include cheerfully listing the people one's multiple spouses were cheating with. It was rather refreshing, in a weird, terrifying kind of way, although it was bringing back his feelings of inadequacy. He'd certainly never done anything that would shock anyone. Well, nothing sexual, anyhow.

After dinner, they went back to the fruit-laden sitting room for coffee. Ianto restrained himself from attempting to drag the subject back to his parents' visit, consoling himself with Jack's promise that it would be dealt with tomorrow. So he listened to Jack's slightly outrageous and almost certainly untrue stories and watched Toshiko's fond exasperation, adding the occasional comment whenever he could get a word in. The man could certainly talk.

Eventually, Toshiko excused herself and Jack (with a stretch that showed off his arms nicely) announced that they should probably start on the tour before it got too dark. Ianto, being full and comfortable and finally not too hot, wasn't so keen at that precise moment, but felt it would be impolite to say so.

And once he had got over his initial food-filled sleepiness, he found himself fascinated. Arriving, what with the blinding midday sun and the information overload from being in an entirely alien environment, he hadn't been in an ideal position to observe. Now, in the gentler evening light, he found the palace and its surroundings hauntingly beautiful. The low, flat buildings of the small town segued seamlessly into the palace grounds. Thick walls with arch shaped doorways formed an intriguing labyrinth within the town that provided shelter from wind and sand. A number of locals, mostly wrapped in robes, wandered the streets. The sight of Jack didn't seem to cause any particular reactions, even when he took Ianto's arm. There were many couples, of all combinations of gender, walking the streets arm in arm, so he didn't object, although he did turn his head away until the burning faded from his cheeks, cursing his pale skin for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

They strolled through the marketplace, just closing down for the night. Jack pointed out a few potential purchases, and promised to bring him back another day. They moved on to the outskirts of the town, where the buildings ended and the sand took over, stretching out in soft, sculpted dunes towards the horizon. Ianto knew perfectly well, both from maps and from the view from the aeroplane, that Bho-Shiyn was a narrow peninsula surrounded by the ocean, but from where he stood, the sand seemed to go on forever. He shivered a little, and Jack drew him closer with a protective arm around his waist. "It gets cold quickly once the sun goes down," he said. "Let's get back home, I've got a few more things I want to show you."

Very much aware of the hand resting on his hip, Ianto smiled a little at the thought of the man beside him casually referring to the sprawling palace dominating the dusky skyline as 'home'. Sunset was staining the sky with a beautiful selection of reds and oranges as they made their way back through the now almost deserted streets.

They weren't halfway back when Jack pulled him into a darkened alcove, wrapped both arms around his waist, and moved in for a kiss.

Surprised, Ianto pulled away, his shoulders hitting the wall behind him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Kissing you. Things seemed to be going that way. You don't want to?" He sounded puzzled.

"I..." Jack's fingers stroked gently across his cheek, the thumb ever so lightly brushing his lips, then his fingers settled at the back of his neck. "We shouldn't," he said, sounding unsure even to his own ears.

"Has anyone ever told you you have the most perfect mouth...?"

Ianto felt a flash of annoyance. "No. Probably because I haven't," he said tightly, meeting the eyes of this arrogant, far too handsome man who had dared to assume that he would just fall into his arms like... well, like his wives had apparently done.

"And why shouldn't we?" His left hand pressed against Ianto's chest, and Ianto was perfectly aware of how hard and fast his heart was pounding - he could feel it pulsing in his throat.

It was a fair question. As Jack had taken pains to make clear over dinner, they were both free. The dusk light was shining in his bright blue eyes, his broad shoulders and strong arms were so close, and it had been so, so long since Ianto had been touched...

This time when Jack leaned towards him, Ianto met him halfway. Jack's lower lip pressed between Ianto's, and the tip of his tongue gently parted them. Jack cupped Ianto's face in his hands, fingertips sliding into his hair. Their tongues met and lazily caressed, and Ianto couldn't help the faint gasp that escaped him. Jack tasted so _good..._ He pulled away, forcing his breathing to slow. "We _shouldn't..."_

Jack gently manoeuvred them into a hug, his slightly rough cheek pressed against Ianto's. "You never did say why."

Ianto slid his hands up to the back of Jack's shoulders and turned his head slightly, the better to breathe in his scent. "For a start, your domestic arrangements are far too complicated for me."

"You don't..." a light kiss to his neck, "have to become..." a soft nip to his earlobe, "part of my domestic arrangements..." the tip of a tongue traced over the upper rim of his ear, "if you don't want to," whispered close in a rush of warm breath that made him squirm and cling tighter.

He wasn't sure what to say - he liked Jack a lot, and had even come to admire him in the short time they'd spent together, but he really didn't want to go into his troubled past, his intimacy issues, the bad relationships, the worse break-ups... _*If you weren't already married,*_ he thought, ruefully, _*and if I wasn't quite so messed up...*_ The chill in the air suddenly registered, and he shuddered in Jack's arms.

Jack rubbed his back briskly. "I know, we're not really dressed for the night. Let's finish the tour and get inside. We can talk about this tomorrow. Or not, whichever you prefer." He planted a dry kiss on Ianto's cheek, gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and took his arm again. Ianto, feeling overwhelmed, allowed himself to be led back to the palace.

The town was, by now, dark and completely deserted, and it was something of a relief to return to the floodlit palace, with servants moving around the grounds. "I know," Jack said, "I'll introduce you to my babies, it'll be warm there."

Ianto gave him a questioning look, but only got a bright smile in response. Jack led the way to a long stable block. A few horse and camel heads emerged and chewed in their direction. Jack exchanged a few words with a man who held a shovel and an air of authority while Ianto examined the animals from a safe distance. He generally preferred his animals cat-sized or smaller, and both the horses and the camels had a mad, wild look in their eyes...

Jack finished his conversation and returned to his side. "They're very nice," Ianto said, nodding towards the stables and looking forward to a warm bed, but Jack took his arm again.

"Not those. C'mon."

They walked around the stable block to a series of barns. Ianto looked around in bemusement - there had been no sign whatsoever of this little agricultural complex from the front. Jack pushed open a small side door and led the way into the dark.

In the strong-smelling darkness, there was the sound of heavy breathing, snorting, and the stamping of feet coming from all around him. For a moment the panic began to rise, then Jack switched on a series of small, dim lights and he found himself surrounded by... cows. About twenty of them, in a series of low stalls. Safely contained, but a little closer than he'd ideally prefer, and all with thick straight sharp horns, more like oxen than cattle... and they were all staring at him. He took a deep breath, released his death grip on Jack's sleeve, and told himself firmly that they were just burgers on legs.

"Gorgeous, aren't they?" Jack asked proudly.

"They're very nice. Very... pointy."

"Come and meet Janet."

"Janet?" He looked at the large brown cow with the metre hornspan whose forehead Jack was casually scratching, She snorted at him. "Yes, she looks like a Janet."

"Yep. She's my special girl. Stroke her nose, it's ever so soft."

"I'm not really much of a cow nose fan..."

"C'mon, she won't bite. Will ya, darlin'..."

He found himself pulled forward. Not wanting to be rude, he touched her nose quickly. It was, indeed, soft and velvety, except for the bristly whiskers here and there. It was also slightly damp. He wiped his hand surreptitiously on his trousers and backed out of lunging range. Janet extended a startlingly large pink tongue and swiped it across her muzzle.

"She's our champion." He scritched her ears. "All ready for the big day tomorrow. They're a very rare breed, you know. There's only a few thousand in the whole world."

"What's happening tomorrow?" Ianto asked, with visions of a Bho-Shiyn version of a country fete in his mind.

"The races! You're in for a treat, you arrived just in time. It's about the biggest event of the year, around here."

"Races? With... cows?"

"Yep. You do want to come, don't you? It'll be fun, I promise. There'll be snacks."

"There's not any kind of... audience participation, is there?"

"Absolutely not. You need years of practise to race cows. And to be completely mad, of course."

"All right, then. I'll come." He didn't know who he was kidding. He would've said yes if Jack had invited him to watch open heart surgery followed by a four-hour discussion of property prices in the Rhondda Valley. He also suspected that he was falling hard for the strange and charismatic sheikh, and a tiny internal part of him was panicking about that.

"Great, You can sit in the royal box with me and Tosh." He was feeding Janet wisps of hay over the partition. Ianto gave the door behind them a longing look. _*All I wanted,*_ he thought, _*was to find out why my parents abandoned me. That's all I came here for. I really wasn't planning on having anything to do with love or livestock.*_

"Are you okay?" Jack asked, glancing back at him. "You look a bit..." he hesitated, trying to find the right word.

"Just a bit tired," Ianto replied hastily, before Jack could come to the conclusion that the right word was 'terrified'.

"Sounds reasonable. Let's get you to bed." He gave Ianto a friendly leer and patted Janet on the neck. "Night, beautiful."

It really had been a very long day, and very exhausting, both physically and emotionally. Therefore, by the time they returned to the main stairwell inside the palace, Ianto was thinking only of politely extracting himself from his host, making it back to his room, and collapsing; so when something very blonde came leaping out of the shadows and hurled itself at Jack, his first startled thought was that some revolutionary group were making an assassination attempt. A second later and, from the way Jack was laughing and spinning her through the air, it was clear that wasn't the case.

"Guess what?" she asked with a grin when Jack put her down.

"Ummm... You bought a puppy?"

"No."

"You got your nipples pierced?"

"No."

"You've got a job as a traffic warden?"

"No."

"Errr... You gave birth to a pterodactyl?"

"No. Shall I just tell you?"

"No! One more go. You're... wait, don't tell me... You're back early?"

"Yes!" They hugged again, and she kissed him, noisily. "Ah, you may be slow, but you get there in the end."

"Ianto, this is Rose, one of my other better halves; Rose, this is Ianto. His parents were friends of my father's."

"All right?" Rose said, holding out a hand.

Ianto shook it. "Nice to meet you, ma'am." He brain chanted _*I had my tongue in your husband's mouth,*_ and he did his best to ignore it.

Rose, not very subtly and with a wide smile, looked him up and down, then elbowed Jack in the ribs.

"We were just off to bed," Jack said. "For sleeping," he added at Rose's raised eyebrow.

_*There must be something in the water,*_ Ianto thought, disbelievingly. _*Toshiko seems relatively normal, at least...*_

"How long have you been here, then?" Rose asked.

Ianto looked at his watch. "About eight hours."

"Ah. You'll've met the cows, then."

"Don't you start," Jack said warningly, pointing a finger at her. "C'mon, bed."

He herded them both up the stairs and deposited Ianto at his room, for which he was thankful, having been under grave doubts as to his ability to find it again unaided. They all wished one another a good night, and Jack and Rose left, arms around each other's waists, her fingers tucked into his back pocket. Ianto retreated inside and shut the door.

_*Lifestyles of the rich and over-sexed,*_ he thought as he lay in bed, blankets tucked tightly around him against the desert night. _*If that's what never having to work for a living does to you...*_ He drifted off, thought unfinished.

* * *

He was woken as somebody slipped into the bed beside him. He froze, staring into the dark, his mind racing.

Then, quietly, a little hesitantly: "Ianto?"

"Toshiko?"

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

When he opened his eyes the next morning, for a moment, he didn't remember where he was. The bright morning light shone through the thin curtains and turned everything yellow gold, making the soft blue and green room of last night unfamiliar. He blinked and glanced around and remembered. Bho-Shiyn. Jack. Toshiko...

Yes, there she was, curled on her side, facing away from him, her long black hair fanned out on the pillow. He'd slept with another man's wife, and, if everyone had told the truth yesterday, he didn't even have to feel guilty. He grinned up at the patterned ceiling, until startled out of his reverie by the sound of the door.

He sat up, hand groping on the bedside table for anything to use as a weapon, eyes fixed on the slowly opening door...

It was Billis. Again. He flopped back on the bed, biting back a number of angry outbursts, _*don't you ever knock?*_ at the top of the list.

Toshiko stirred and rolled over. Billis hung a black plastic clothes cover on the wardrobe door and gave one of his little bows. Ianto pulled the covers up to his neck.

"Good morning, sir, madam."

Ianto pulled out his best polite insincere smile. Toshiko muttered a pillow-muffled "morning."

"A gift, sir, from his highness. He requests that you wear it this afternoon."

Hell. Cow races. They'd slipped his mind altogether. "Thank you."

Billis bowed yet again and left.

"Is there any way to lock that door?" Ianto asked, a little petulantly.

Toshiko snuggled up to his side. "Not that'll keep him out. He's got a key to every lock in the place." She yawned, hugely. "What did Jack get you?"

"Don't you find him a little odd?"

"Jack?"

"No, Billis."

"Ah." She yawned again and began tracing patterns on his stomach. "Odd, no. Creepy and annoying, yes."

"It's not just me, then."

She poked him gently. "What did Jack get you?"

He grabbed some of yesterday's clothes from the chair by the bed and pulled them on under the blankets. It had been dark last night and he didn't want to shatter any illusions. She had snuggled back down with her eyes closed, and had every appearance of going back to sleep, anyway. In a gentlemanly gesture, he scooped up her dressing gown from the floor and left in on the foot of the bed.

Upon unzipping Billis's offering, he found it was a long-shirt-and-loose-trousers ensemble, similar to those he'd seen some of the townspeople wearing yesterday, made of dark red silk.

"Nice," Toshiko commented. She was watching him through sleepy, half-closed eyes.

"I'm not sure I've got any shoes to go with it." _*Or that I should be accepting his gifts...*_ He fingered the sleeve thoughtfully. He'd always been a pushover for silk. The material was very lightweight, and would probably be cooler to wear than his own clothes. It was a pretty red, almost burgundy, and he remembered Jack telling him over dinner that he looked good in dark colours...

It was all absurdly flattering, but he was still unsure what he would do if Jack were to make an outright move. He couldn't deny that he was very attracted to the sheikh, but, as he had told him last night, he was reluctant to get involved in this unfamiliar set-up. Although (he glanced back at the bed, where Toshiko had rolled onto her side, the covers pushed down to her waist revealing the smooth curves of her back) he'd already got himself involved... Perhaps it would be only fair to let Jack have a go, too. With three wives and a kingdom to run, it was unlikely he'd want anything permanent. Ianto hadn't been with a man since he was sixteen (his and Owen's awkward mutual masturbation sessions didn't count) and he'd never even met a man as attractive as Jack, let alone gone to bed with them. An affair could be fun - like a holiday romance.

For that matter, he wasn't entirely sure where he stood with Toshiko. From what she'd said last night, he'd got the impression that this was a casual, one-time thing, but he didn't know how she'd feel if he took up with her husband.

He heard movement and politely kept his back to her until she'd slipped into the dressing gown. She stood on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you at breakfast," she said.

* * *

He found his way back to the dining room unaided and with only two wrong turns. He felt very proud. Toshiko was the only one there when he arrived, neatly dressed with freshly-brushed hair loose around her shoulders; but Rose arrived shortly afterwards, dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, her hair in an untidy ponytail, yawning repeatedly.

The sight of her triggered a memory from last night: _They had been lying in each other's arms, nose-to-nose. "Yes," Toshiko had said, "Jack and Rose are doing it like bunnies at this very moment." She had pressed her hand against his chest. "They invited me to join them, but I'd rather be with you. I'm not doing this because I'm jealous, if that's what you're asking..."_

"Mornin'" Rose said, through another yawn. "Toast cold yet?"

Toshiko laid the back of a hand delicately against the contents of the silver toast rack. "Yes."

"Cool." She grabbed three pieces and began buttering.

Ianto found himself looking back and forth between them. Between Toshiko's elegant nibbling and Rose's enthusiastic bolting. Between Toshiko's neat cream blouse and and black trousers and Rose's scruffy, faded T-shirt and obviously borrowed underwear. Between Toshiko's shiny black hair and Rose's bright blonde...

"Is Jack going to be joining us?" Toshiko asked.

"Dunno. He was gone when I woke up. Chuck us a banana."

The three of them worked their way through the breakfast buffet. Toshiko's ankle brushed occasionally against Ianto's, and they shared a few meaningful looks across the table.

"You two coming to the races this afternoon, then?" Rose asked over the rim of a small cup of frighteningly strong Turkish coffee. She'd curled her legs underneath her and was leaning on the arm of the chair.

"Yes," Ianto replied. "You?"

"Oh yeah, it's great fun - completely mental." She turned to Toshiko. "D'ya remember that time that bull charged us?"

"Frequently. Usually around two in the morning."

"It was fantastic," she said to Ianto, "this huge great big bull, with _massive_ horns on him," she demonstrated with her fingers, "chucks his rider and comes charging straight at the royal box. You've got us lot and all the honour guard and that, all dressed up for it, all scattering in every direction, the bull comes smashing through, and gets this curtain stuck on his horns. So then he starts going round and round in circles trying to get this curtain off of him, and he can't see where he's going, so he's just trampling over _everything..._ I've never regretted wearing high heels more in my life." She grinned, happily. Perhaps noticing Ianto's look of dismay, she added: "but that won't happen this time! They almost always stay on the track until they're clear of the crowds. You'll be fine, don't worry."

He was contemplating death by goring and wondering if he could fake a convincing last minute illness, when Billis slipped silently into the room. This time, however, Ianto caught a glimpse in the corner of his eye before he could sneak too close. _*Progress,*_ he thought. _*If I keep this up, by the time I leave, I might actually manage to sneak up on **him.***_

Billis stopped by his side, gave the unavoidable bow, and said: "A message from his highness, sir. He requests that you join him in the study after you have eaten."

Ianto looked down at the half-finished scrambled eggs and smoked salmon on toast sitting in front of him. "Right. Thank you."

Billis retreated as silently as he had come.

"Don't you think his eyes are too close together? I think his eyes are too close together," Rose said, leaning conspiratorially over the table.

Toshiko rolled her eyes a little.

"I wouldn't like to comment on anyone's physical shortcomings," Ianto said, primly. "But it would be nice if someone could tie a bell around his neck."

Rose laughed and Toshiko smiled.

"I'll take you down there once we're done," Rose offered. "Takes a while to get the hang of where everything is."

"Yes, it certainly does," Toshiko added. "I rather suspect the place was designed to confuse invading armies."

* * *

Jack was sitting behind a huge desk with paper strewn across its surface when they entered the study. Rose sat in his lap and presented him with a bunch of three bananas. "Brought you something. You shouldn't skip breakfast."

He put the bananas on the desk and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Thanks. Morning, by the way..."

They kissed. Ianto examined the walls.

"Mmm... Not that it isn't good to see you..." Jack said, gently disengaging.

"But butt out 'cos you two wanna talk? Fair enough." She kissed him on the nose and got to her feet. "See you later," she said as she passed Ianto on the way to the door.

"Sorry about that," said Jack, with a thoroughly unapologetic smile, once the door had shut behind her. "Sit down."

Ianto did. The chair was carved wood and not very comfortable.

"I've been going through my dad's papers, and I've found a couple of interesting things. Did you know we're engaged?" He laughed at Ianto's look of polite incomprehension and broke into the bananas. "It's true, look." He pushed a piece of paper across the desk.

Ianto looked at the elegant swooping script, hand-written in no language or alphabet he understood. "I can't read this."

"I'll give you the short version: In return for services rendered - I haven't found out what they were yet, but those must've been some impressive services - my dad agreed to formally adopt your parents into the royal family by means of - and this is important - marriage of eldest child to eldest child. Now, there're quite a few mistakes in this document. I don't think it was drawn up by a native speaker, which is a bit weird. I was thinking maybe one of your parents did it? I don't suppose you know anything about their linguistic skills? No? Well, I'm guessing what they meant to say was eldest son to eldest daughter, or even child to child, but since they didn't and same-sex marriages have been legal here since 1996... unless you've got a biological sibling you haven't mentioned yet, congratulations would seem to be in order."

Ianto looked from the document to Jack and back again, unsure what to say.

"Don't worry, I'll let you off the actual marriage. Given that neither of us had a say in it and everyone involved in the actual agreement's dead now, I don't think anyone's going to object. But, either way, you're going to be very rich - you're down for a percentage of the royal estate. Not a big percentage, but still," he fixed Ianto with a movie-star smile, "you won't have to pick up anyone's dry-cleaning again."

He felt vaguely horrified. He'd always worked very hard to avoid being in anyone's debt. "But I don't want to take your money..."

"Look, I'm letting you out of the lifetime of exciting companionship and hot sex, don't think you're getting away without the fortune and the life of decadent idleness."

"I mean it! I didn't come here for a handout, I..."

Jack held up a hand. "You don't have to decide anything now. For a start, I'd like to know what your folks did that had my dad so impressed. You never know, it might turn out they were blackmailing him or something, and then I'd have to have you driven off my property." He grinned to show he was joking. Ianto weakly returned it. "Are you sure there's nothing in your mom's diary?"

"I don't think so. It's in my room if you wanted to take a look?"

"I've got plenty of paperwork to look through, still. But it might be worth your taking another look, now you know what you're looking for. I'll keep looking until we have to leave, and I'll let you know this afternoon if I find anything. The girls are around if you want some company in the meantime. They like you, by the way. Especially Tosh."

Ianto found himself entirely unable to meet Jack's eyes, which Jack apparently found most amusing.

* * *

He read through the diary again and found nothing useful. The temperature rose and rose, and he fell asleep.

He dreamt he was in his bedroom from the foster home before the foster home before Estelle's, but Jack and Owen were there, too. They were barricading the door against something, or maybe they'd just accidentally put the bed across the door when someone wanted to get in... But then they couldn't move the bed because Toshiko was in it, and she had wrapped herself around him, her hips moving enticingly under his hands, but he was trying to fight free to get to the door...

He awoke in another rush of confusion. The knocking on the door was real.

It was Rose. She was wearing a cream-coloured, long sleeved, kimono-like dress. He rubbed a hand self-consciously through his hair and stood back to let her in.

"You're not ready," she said, accusingly.

He glanced at his watch. "I fell asleep..."

She gave him a knowing smile. "Well, if you will stay up all night..." His horrified gaze met only her back, as she noticed the red silk suit still hanging on the wardrobe door. "Ooo, pretty. Mind you, I shouldn't be jealous, what with all his money I just spent, should I? Go on," she said, turning to see Ianto still staring at her and giving him a familiar push towards the bathroom, "we've got to go soon. Don't get yourself too tarted up, mind. It's always dusty as hell out by the tracks."

He splashed cold water on his face, which helped with the sleep-induced muzziness and brushed his teeth to drive out the fallen-asleep-in-the-middle-of-the-day taste, while meditating on women and the way they told each other absolutely everything.

When he emerged from the bathroom to grab the suit (he'd decided it would be rude not to accept it. Also he didn't really have time to pick anything else out), Rose was sitting back against the headboard, flipping through _L'Esprit contre la raison_ that he'd made a start at after the diary. "You speak French?" she asked.

"In the face of the evidence, I can't really deny it." He seized the clothes and retreated back to the bathroom.

"That's cool," she called through the partition. "I did French at school, but it didn't really take."

"It's not always a good thing," he called back, struggling out of his shirt. "I was applying for a job once, told the interviewer I spoke fluent French, and he demanded I recite the irregular verbs."

"Harsh. Did you do it?"

"I got through about eight of them before he stopped me."

"Did you get the job?"

"No."

"Bastard."

"That's almost exactly what I thought."

He examined his reflection. He didn't look too bad, actually. He seemed to have got away with the exposure to the sun yesterday. _*Good point - mustn't forget the sunblock*_

When he went to collect the sunblock from his rucksack, Rose greeted him with a wolf whistle, and then laughed uproariously when he glared at her. She stalked around him as he rubbed factor 24 into his face and hands. "It's nice an' all," she said, thoughtfully, "but it's not really Jack's style."

"No? I thought it was like what the locals wear."

"Yeah, it is, but... It hides your butt. Jack's something of an arse-man. It's not really his style." She paused. "Looks good, though."

"Er, thanks."

He sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his tan hiking boots, which didn't exactly match, but were all he had.

"Oh my _god,_ I know what you need!" Rose exclaimed. She seized his hand and pulled him out of the room.

"Where exactly are we going?" he asked as they sped through the corridors.

"My room. You need a belt, and I've got just the thing."

"Isn't it about time to go? Shouldn't we be leaving?"

"Don't sound so frightened, I'm not gonna molest ya. Not unless you ask me nicely."

_*There **must** be something in the water. It would explain so much.*_

"Here we are. Hang on a minute."

The room she had led them to was surprisingly pink. She rummaged through a row of shopping bags and emerged with a scarf a few shades darker than his shirt. She wrapped it around his waist, keeping eye contact as her arms were around him, and tied it snugly over one hip.

He frowned down at it. "I look like I've escaped from a panto."

"No you don't, you look great."

He fiddled with the knot. "Have you got an oversized cutlass to go with this? Or maybe forty blokes with turbans to follow me around?"

"Shut up," she said, laughing. "You look fine. C'mon, let's go find the others."

* * *

Toshiko was waiting for them at the bottom of the staircase, still in the white blouse and black trousers she had worn at breakfast, with the addition of a wide-brimmed hat. Ianto was glad Rose at least had dressed up a bit, otherwise he'd be feeling even more self-conscious.

They found Jack outside, surrounded by various members of the palace staff. To Ianto's annoyance, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He detached himself as they approached, and came forward to meet them.

"Don't we all look pretty?" He stood with his hands on his hips, happily surveying his harem. "Ianto..." he raked his eyes from head to toe and back, "I completely approve. Your idea?" he asked Rose, who was hanging onto Ianto's arm and beaming proudly.

"The belt, yeah. D'ya think I should bring that little parasol thing?"

"If you like, but there'll be plenty of shade. Everybody ready? Shall we?" He took Toshiko's arm, leaving Rose with Ianto.

They made their way across the courtyard and, to Ianto's surprise, around to the cow sheds. Where there was an elephant. An elephant wearing an elaborate harness, which supported an palanquin-like contraption. A horrible sense of foreboding churned deep in his stomach.

"Um... What's that?" he asked, tightly.

"That's Myfanwy," Jack said proudly. "Isn't she gorgeous?"

"She used to be in a circus," Toshiko explained, "and we adopted her when it closed. Don't worry, she's really friendly. She loves people."

"But it'll squash me..." Ianto weakly protested.

"No she won't," Jack said, patiently. "She's been specially trained not to squash people. Not squashing people's her speciality. Come and say hi, you'll see."

"I could walk, instead. Or just stay here, maybe..."

"Oh, don't be a baby," Rose said, shoving him in the small of the back.

"You've got nothing to be afraid of," Jack said. "Just remember, she's a prey animal, you're a predator."

"What? No she's not! What preys on elephants?"

Jack gave him an odd look. "Humans."

"Yes, granted, but..."

"Everything will be fine, I promise. You don't even have to go near the front end if you don't want to."

"What if it rolls over when we're on its back?"

"She's very old, she does everything very slowly. If she's going to roll over, we'll have plenty of notice. Not that she will, she's been specially trained not to squash people." He gave him a quizzical look. "Were you frightened by an elephant as a child or something?"

"Or something." Ianto folded his arms defensively, looking around to check the women were out of earshot. "I was bitten by a poodle, and it's not remotely funny, so don't even _think_ about laughing."

Jack looked carefully away into the distance. Eventually: "it is _kinda_ funny."

"It was a standard poodle, not a toy. They're big. And we're not talking about a strategically shaved show dog either - it was a stray. I've still got the scar."

"All right, all right, I'm sorry," Jack said, openly laughing, now.

"What if I'd told you I'd been bitten by a rottweiler? I'd've got sympathy then, wouldn't I? But just mention 'poodle' and everyone falls about laughing."

"So why don't you say 'rottweiler'?"

Ianto put on his best serious face. "I have too much respect for the truth."

Jack laughed and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, let's get you up on the elephant."

* * *

Riding on an elephant, as it turned out, was not as frightening as standing on the ground beside one. It helped that you couldn't see the tusks.

The others had fussed over her before they left, feeding her treats and letting her wrap her trunk around their necks, while Ianto stood back and told himself that it was a perfectly rational fear, actually, animals attacked humans every day, especially ex-circus animals...

Once they were all safely ensconced on the elephant's back, Jack had taken his hand; holding it, unobtrusively enough, down against the seat. It was a nice gesture, and one that certainly took his mind off the rocking gait of the elephant, but his treacherous mind would insist on reading all sorts of meanings into it...

_*Shut up,*_ he told it, sternly. _*You've had more sex and potential sex in the last forty-eight hours than you've had in a year, we're in a beautiful, exotic place, being entertained by royalty. Could you please try to just enjoy yourself for five minutes?*_

The open desert stretched out to either side, bright sand with occasional windswept clumps of low-lying vegetation. Behind and before them a caravan of townspeople drove cattle, rode camels or horses, or, for the most part, walked, stirring up the dust in a long cloud marking their trail.

Jack leaned in close to speak over the sounds of people and animals. "No-one uses motor vehicles today. Traditional. Also they spook the cattle. There's our baby, see?" He pointed out Janet, decked in ribbons, being led along the trail.

"Is she a good racer?"

"She's the best! Hasn't ever won a race in her life!"

"Er... Sorry?"

"I supply the prizes - it'd look pretty bad if I won. So we have Janet, who can put on a good show, but doesn't actually win anything."

"I see. Cunning."

"Just good PR." His thumb lightly stroked over the back of Ianto's hand. "Are you okay? I'm sorry about the whole elephant thing, but it is expected of us..."

"It's all right. I'm pretending it's a Range Rover with very bad suspension."

He laughed. "Cunning. I didn't find anything else relating to your parents, by the way. I'm thinking we should ask around, see if we can find anyone who remembers them. Bit of a long shot, but I'm out of ideas. Sorry, I know you were hoping for more."

"That's all right. I've gone through my whole life knowing nothing about them at all - it's nice to have something, even if it's not very much." _*But I still don't know why Estelle hid it from me... Or how she came to know in the first place.*_

* * *

The so-called royal box consisted of a low wooden platform with a lot of sofas and an awning overhead to provide some shade. There were the promised snacks, packed in ice and covered to keep the dust out. Rose grabbed bottles of water for everyone, took some of the ice, and balanced it on her head.

Jack excused himself and bounded off to join the milling crowd. "Ah, organised chaos, his favourite," Toshiko said, kicking off her shoes and curling up on the seat next to Ianto, tucking her toes under his thigh.

The racetrack was nothing more than a strip of empty desert, surrounded by chattering crowds of people in bright clothes. Cattle, also dressed in bright colours, were conglomerating at one end. Ianto watched the people pass by, catching the odd glimpse of Jack's bright white T-shirt passing here and there. He kept one ear on Rose and Toshiko's conversation, which at the moment was mostly concerned with people he didn't know, and the other on the chatter of the crowd. The swell of so many voices formed a strangely comforting background. He settled himself back and took a swallow from the cool bottle of water.

The first race happened with no preamble - suddenly animals were galloping along the track, their riders clinging to rope harnesses, dust trails rising from their thumping hooves. The crowd roared, and, feeling the sudden rise of tension, Ianto sat up involuntarily. They galloped past the platform and out into the desert, their riders beginning the lengthy process of slowing them down and turning them around. Various parts of the crowd took on tones of triumph or despair.

Jack bounced back onto the platform. Rose held up a hand. "If you start talking in statistics," she said, "I shall be forced to brain you with a sandwich."

"Hear, hear," Toshiko added.

"You're all against me," he complained, taking the seat beside Rose and putting his arm around her shoulders.

Another group thundered along the raceway, and Ianto watched in horror as one rider lost his grip, hit the dirt, and rolled away into the crowd. He had apparently avoided all the hooves, as he was on his feet a few seconds later, albeit rather shakily. "Has anyone been killed doing this?" Ianto asked, as the rider was led into the shade, and his mount galloped off into the desert, several figures dashing after it.

"In the last twenty years, we've had three deaths; two riders, one spectator," Jack answered.

"Right, I warned you," Rose said, snatching up a sandwich.

Jack intercepted it before she could strike. _"Give_ me that... It doesn't count, he asked."

"And then," Toshiko said quietly next to Ianto's ear, "he eats the sandwich, thus disarming her."

"What it she's got a loaf?" Ianto replied, his eyes tracing the dust trail of the escaped animal.

"What if she's got a pointed stick?" Toshiko said, and laid her cheek against his shoulder.

"What about the cows?" Ianto asked a little louder, looking across to where Jack was, indeed, eating the sandwich.

"They tend to fare better than the people - there was one needed some stitches about five, six years ago, and I remember a couple of broken horns, but no fatalities."

They watched and drank and snacked. Ianto listened to Jack's running commentary and Rose's laughing attempts to stop him, and thought about a country where watching cows run around was the highlight of the year.

Janet ran in three races, coming fifth once, and third twice. ("She's getting faster," Jack commented ruefully. "Might be time for her to retire soon.")

"Not much more to go now," Toshiko commented to Ianto. "Is the cow fatigue setting in yet?"

"Actually, I'm quite enjoying it." And he really was. The ceremony with which the participants treated the races was fascinating, and the spectators' enthusiasm was contagious.

She gave him a bright smile, and opened her mouth, but before she could speak...

There was a great roar, and the world seemed to shift sideways. When Ianto came round, he was lying on the sand with something heavy on top of him. There was a strange noise all around him, like the swush of sea on sand, but pitched too high. He could hear screams as well, but they were very far away. The something heavy lifted off him. It was Jack. He seemed to be asking if he was okay, but his voice sounded as distant as the screams. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, Jack was gone and Rose was by his side. He looked around and found Jack, striding away through the smoke, holding a gun at his hip. He glanced back, and the look in his eyes, shining in the flames from the burning platform, struck Ianto like a physical blow. There was nothing there of the spoilt playboy with whom he'd spent the last two days.

Rose was saying something. He forced himself to concentrate. "...concussion or something. Jack and Tosh'll get them, though. They're all about the butch. Think you can stand up?"

She pulled him to his feet. He felt dizzy and sick and clung to her shoulders. Ridiculous, really. He was a head taller than her, and he was clinging to her for desperate balance...

Flames enveloped the platform where they'd all sat, burning swathes of fabric breaking loose and snapping in the breeze like bright flags. A related thought occurred to him. "Toshiko! She was right next to me..."

"It's okay," Rose soothed, pulling him away, "she's gone after them, she's with Jack. C'mon, we've got to get out of here before they try again..."

She steered him away from the flames and the panicking animals and people, but they didn't get far before he stumbled and slid out of her grasp. She took as much of his weight as she could as he collapsed to the sand.

"We have to keep moving," she gasped, kneeling down beside him.

"Just a minute..." He couldn't walk any more just now. Everything was spinning and hurting and he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't going to be sick.

"Oh, look! Look, c'mon..."

His eyes followed her fingers. A jeep was bouncing across the sand towards them.

Rose pulled desperately at his arm. "It's one of ours, come _on..."_

He climbed to his feet, using Rose as a lever. The jeep pulled up next to them. Long, pale fingers closed on Ianto's arm and pulled him in. Rose pushed from the other side, and once he was inside she moved to join him, but the jeep pulled away fast, leaving her sprawled in the sand, staring incredulously after them.

Ianto turned to the man beside him. "What are y..." It was Billis, and he was pointed a gun at Ianto's face.

"You were supposed to have been killed in the blast," he said, his prim, precise voice sounding out of place against the engine's rough roar. "So please try to understand the current situation. You will do exactly as I say, or I will shoot you. I would prefer not to do this."

"I'd prefer you didn't do it, either." His mind was doing its dazed best to race, but the events of the past few minutes had been overwhelming. Foremost on his mind was that he'd _known_ there was something wrong about Billis... _*You can't condemn someone just for being a bit creepy. And Jack trusted him...*_ "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

Billis fixed his eyes on him. "You really don't know, do you?"

The driver turned sharply, and Ianto's head connected with the door frame. He gasped and touched lightly at the apex of pain with his fingertips. There wasn't too much swelling, but even the lightest of touches caused more pain tendrils to snake around his head.

"I spared your life once," Billis said, annoyance in his voice. "And that of the old woman you lived with. You've had enough chances."

"But I didn't even meet you until..." he trailed off as his battered brain realised. "You killed my parents. And Estelle never gave me the box because you threatened her..."

Billis gave him a disdainful look. "Not personally, no."

"Why?" _*My parents didn't abandon me at all... They were murdered.*_ "Is this about the money Jack's father wanted to give them?"

"Just like him, you assume it all comes down to money."

"What, then?"

The jeep stopped. "Out," Billis ordered, levelling the gun at Ianto's nose.

He clambered out. The bright sun hurt his eyes and set his head throbbing. "What do you want? You want me to give you the money? You want me to leave and never come back? I can do that."

"Kneel. Put your hands behind your head."

He did as he was told. The words _execution style_ floated across his mind. "I mean it, I'll leave, I won't say a word to anyone..." Would it hurt? he wondered. Would he hear the shot? Feel the bullet? Would anyone ever find his body? Kathy would definitely come looking for him. Would Billis end up shooting her too?

"It is bad enough," Billis said tightly from behind him, "serving an... an Americanised pastiche of all that used to be great about a noble house... He _sold_ his father's _books,_ you know. He said they might as well be in a _museum._ And he brought in those... _women..."_

_*The centre cannot hold,*_ Ianto thought, remembering saying those words to Kathy across Estelle's kitchen table.

"It is bad enough being in service to such _decadence,_ but when I am asked to see to the needs of the child of the _scientists,_ who would take our lord's gifts and _study_ us like _primitives..._ His _catamite,_ who only lives because _I_ permitted it..."

Suddenly things became a little clearer. "You've got the wrong idea! I'm not anyone's catamite, let alone Jack's. Really, put me on the first plane out of here, you'll never set eyes on me again, I swear. You don't have to d..."

There came the harsh _blam_ of a gunshot. If Ianto had had any air in his lungs, he would have screamed. As it was, he fell forward and waited to die.

It didn't hurt. At least, not any more than it had hurt before. He was about to reach up and check that the back of his head was still (as he suspected) intact, when another shot sounded, this time unmistakably from right behind him. This time he did give a yelp of fear and surprise. Then there were the sounds of running feet, two more shots, and some kind of _thudding..._ He had to look. He twisted his head to peer over his shoulder. Billis was running away from him, firing wildly at...

It was Jack, riding a white horse, and pointing what looked like some kind of antique pistol at Billis. _*Well, why not?*_ Ianto thought, suppressing the urge to laugh, _*If you're going to rescue someone, you might as well do it properly.*_ The grim, determined look on his face made him look older. Like the leader he was.

Toshiko was just behind him on a brown horse with a white nose. She was holding an Uzi, and the look of cold fury in her eyes made Ianto press himself back down into the sand.

There were more shots, then the staccato cough of the submachine gun. Then silence. Then the approach of running feet... He rolled over to face whoever had won the firefight.

It was Toshiko. He sat up and she hugged him. Over her shoulder he saw Jack aiming his pistol at Billis. There was blood on Jack's sleeve and on the sand, and Billis was crouching in a posture that screamed _pain!_ "Are you all right?" Toshiko asked. "We thought it was just that one with the grenade launcher, and we didn't know they were after _you..."_

With a shock he remembered: "he wasn't alone, there was someone else driving the jeep..."

"It's all right, it's all right," she gave him a comforting squeeze, "we got him. We were following his tracks to find you."

He looked back at Jack and Billis. He could hear their impassioned voices, speaking a language he didn't understand. "What now?"

"We wait. Rose is bringing the cavalry." She sat down by his side, pulled her gun into her lap and put her arm around his waist. "I've never seen Jack so angry," she said, quietly.

"What's going to happen to him?" He nodded at Billis.

"I don't know. He tried to _kill_ you!" She sounded as if she was still trying to convince herself. "That man back at the track, he said he'd been told to kill the man in red, and Jack didn't know a thing about _this,"_ she tweaked at his silk shirt, now rather the worse for wear. "Billis set all this up just to kill you. But why would he do that?"

"I don't know. He could have just walked into my room in the middle of the night and shot me. ...But he said this wasn't the plan, that I was supposed to be killed in the blast..."

She pursed her lips and curled her fingers around the gun. "I never liked him very much, but I didn't think he was capable of this. How could we have been so wrong about him?"

The first of the cavalry (in many cases literally - they had come from the racetrack where there were no motor vehicles available, after all) arrived, and took Billis off Jack's hands, but Toshiko kept her eyes (and her gun) pointed in his direction.

Jack jogged over to them, fell to his knees, and gathered Ianto in his arms. "I'm sorry," he murmured in his ear, "I'm so sorry, I've known him my whole life, I had no idea..."

Ianto realised he was embarrassingly close to bursting into tears. He buried his face in Jack's shoulder. _*He tried to **kill** me,*_ he thought, helplessly. _*He **did** kill my parents, he threatened Estelle... I wish I could've talked to her about this, she never even dropped a **hint,** she must've been so scared...*_ A big, comforting hand rubbed gently over his back, and Toshiko's slender fingers interlaced with his. He lifted his head and rested his chin on Jack's shoulder, in time to watch Billis being taken away by a number of large uniformed men. _*You destroyed my life,*_ he thought. _*I could've been raised by my parents... Then I never would've known Estelle, or Kathy and Owen... But would I still have ended up alone with a meaningless job? Would I have still come here?*_

Jack cupped Ianto's face in his hands and manoeuvred them until they were pressed forehead to forehead. He stroked his fingertips gently against his neck and behind his ears. "I nearly lost you," he whispered.

Ianto was beginning to feel a little shaky. _*No more adrenaline,*_ he thought, and wrapped his arms around the both his rescuers. "Marry me," he said, half-laughing, and went to kiss Jack's cheek.

He stopped as two fingers were pressed gently against his mouth. "Careful what you wish for," Jack said, stroking his fingers across Ianto's lips, back to their (now slightly possessive) grip on the back of his neck. And then he leaned in for a long, slow kiss.

* * *

the end

* * *


End file.
